


Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

by Pfain Ryder (Cat_Moon)



Series: Angelfire Universe [9]
Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 15:16:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19405930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Pfain%20Ryder
Summary: When Sam leaps into a nudist colony, Al is having a ball.  Sam, not so much...Angelfire Universe stories are best read in order as they build on each other.





	Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

June 20, 1988:

My favorite type of leap is one where I find myself alone when I arrive. Unfortunately that's rare, most of the time I jump in at some tacky moment where I have to assess the situation instantly and react accordingly. More often than not, I end up looking stupid. By the time I get back home, I'm sure I'll be embarrass-proof. Anyway, there's bad, worse, and then:

There are those leaps from hell...

XXX

I found myself in the middle of a volleyball game. Men and women were scattered on both sides of the net, enthusiastically involved in the sport. I could also see others around the area, some relaxing and other swimming in the lake...

Everyone, myself included, was stark naked.

"Ooh boy."

I closed my eyes for a moment--the wrong one. The ball came down and belted me on the head. As I stumbled, someone on my team grabbed my elbow to steady me.

I bravely fought the instinct to run for cover or hide behind my hands. It didn't help that I'd called attention to myself and had everyone's eyes on me.

A woman came running from the other side of the net. "Dusty, are you okay? Oh my god, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you!" Obviously she was referring to me.

"I , I didn't think you did," I assured her haltingly.

"It's his own fault, Janice, he was daydreaming again," the man who'd assisted me told her.

"He's right," I began, rubbing my head and trying valiantly not to lower my eyes too far. I decided to use the accident to cover up my new-leap confusion; the only advantage I could see in this mess. "I'll be okay, but I think I'm gonna go sit down."

I started over to the benches which lined the edge of the woods. "How could you do this to me?!" I whispered, looking up to the sky. There was a God, and it had Al's sense of humor! No wonder He/She/It listened to his prayers.

Are you sure you're all right?"

Not realizing Janice was behind me, I jumped at the voice. "Don't worry, Janice. Truth is, I just didn't feel like playing anymore."

"Does it have to do with your daydream?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Well..." I was unsure how to respond. My mind had gone a complete blank, the only thing I could think was how easy it is to look into faces when you hold a conversation, yet the harder you try, the harder it is to do. I hoped Dusty wasn't fair-skinned. If so, he was red skinned now.

"That's okay, I wish I was so lucky. I've still got that damned writer's block, and a deadline coming up this fall. That's what I get for writing for television, right?"

"Yeah...right, Janice. Uh, listen, don't let me keep you from the game. I'll just...watch."

"Okay, see you later." She rejoined the game.

I sat down on the bench and heaved a huge sigh--jumping up again very quickly, removed a splinter. I sat again, gingerly, and surveyed my surroundings. I was in some sort of camp...nudist colony, that is. Somewhere in the woods around a lake. I could see cabins lining the water, assumed that's where we were all staying. Then an unsettling thought occurred to me. I didn't think I was carrying a wallet anywhere. How was I supposed to find out which cabin was mine, Dusty's?

I was relieved when I heard the familiar sound of the Imaging Chamber door. Hopefully Al would be able to clear up some of the confusion.

I'd forgotten who I was talking about.

Al glanced at me, then to his handlink, then took an abrupt second look. He blinked, and looked at the volleyball players. His mouth dropped open, but soon an evil smile replaced his astonishment. "I think I'm gonna like this leap," he informed the heavens.

"Well, I don't!" I told him vehemently.

"You wouldn't."

"Al, I'm in a nudist colony!" If I wasn't so shook up, I wouldn't even hope that he'd be any comfort on this one.

Al consulted the handlink. "No, actually, you're in a nudist artist colony." He shook his head. "Artist nudist? That doesn't sound right," he muttered. "A nudist colony for artists...artist colony for nudists?"

"Al!" I interrupted his tirade in exasperation.

"A colony of artistic nudes," he said, finally satisfied. He looked down at himself. "And I'm seriously overdressed."

"This isn't funny!" I almost yelled, glancing around to make sure everyone was occupied. "I'm not going through this whole leap...like this!"

"When in Rome..." Al answered with a wicked gleam.

"This isn't Rome, it's--where the hell am I, anyway?"

"Outside of Ukiah, California, that's about two hundred miles north of San Francisco. It's June 20th, 1988. Your name is dust..." He gave the link a puzzled glance.

"That's Dusty," I growled.

"Oh, Dusty Ross. A poet, here on a summer retreat."

"I'm a what? Why?" There was no answer forthcoming.

Al's attention was riveted on a female jogger. "Would you look at--"

"Al," I broke in, "would you get your mind out of the gutter and onto the purpose of this leap, please?!"

"Too soon for Ziggy to figure that out." He turned his gaze back to the ball players.

"So why don't you get him on it?" Silence answered me. "Al!" Frustrated, I stepped directly in front of him, blocking his line of vision. "I said, go and get on it -- Go."

He finally tore his gaze away from the nudists. Looking miffed, he gave me a once over with his eyes. "Y'know, the guy you leaped into looks a lot like you..."

"Al!" I admonished, mortified at the heat I felt in my cheeks.

"--around the eyes! See, you're the one with the filthy mind."

I threw him the dirtiest look I could muster, watching him prepare to leave.

"...course there's that cute little birthmark of yours..." With that parting shot, he vanished.

"I'm gonna kill you when I get out of this, you know that..." I hissed into the air. Suddenly the urge to get safely indoors came over me, and I swore as I realized I still had no idea where to go.

As I sat pondering the problem, I got lucky. The ball game ended, and Janice came over to me. "Great game, " I commented, for something to say.

"Be even better if we'd won," she pointed out.

"Yeah, well, sorry."

"I lied," she revealed. "My team did win. You'd better get home and write that stuff down before you lose it."

Great, the opening I was waiting for. "Why don't you walk me back? Make sure I don't get so preoccupied that I walk into the lake or something."

Janice laughed and led the way into the woods. "How is the book coming?"

"Okay, I guess." Now that I'd mastered the art of holding my head up high and had the urge to cover myself almost under control, I was starting to relax. Thank God I'm adaptable.

"I'm thinking of quitting," she blurted out.

"Quit writing?"

"What else can I do? If I don't get over this block, I'll be forced to. Time waits for no man, or woman."

 _For some of us..._ "Do you enjoy what you do?" I asked.

"Very much, when I do something other than stare at my typewriter."

"If you're doing what you want to, you should stick with it. Sometimes in life we run into plateaus. If you give up, the only thing you'll be sure of is failing."

"I'll keep that in mind, at least until August 18th."

"That's your deadline?" I asked, wondering how long I'd be stuck there.

Janice nodded, and stopped in front of a small cabin that I assumed was mine. "See you later, Dusty."

"Okay. Good luck."

I escaped into the safety of the cabin. It was tiny, but neatly kept, with a comfortable feel to it. A typewriter sat on a table by a window that had a partial view of the lake. Books took up most of the shelves. I gave it all only a cursory glance though, at the moment I was only interested in the closets. I finally located a robe and gratefully slipped into it.

Then I began my usual search. When this leaping business was over, I was going to make a hell of a detective. I found a book by Dusty on one of the shelves, and opened it to read the blurb about the author. Then I compared the picture on the jacket to the mirror image I saw. There was only the vaguest resemblance between me Dusty, confirming what I already knew, Al was just being his usual wise-ass self. Sometimes I was amazed we'd ever become so close. Come to think of it...I stepped into the Accelerator prematurely, I had Al Calavicci for a best friend; I was definitely a masochist. Dusty's book had been written several years earlier, and finding no other's, I wondered if Janice's was the only career in danger.

I sat down to read the book, figuring it would help to get a feel for who I was supposed to be. I found myself becoming engrossed in the poetry, despite myself. They were rough, but oddly captivating, and many of them I could relate to. One, especially touched me...

_THE VOICE_

_In my dreams I hear the call_

_and obey the siren song_

_go forth into the unknown_

_my one constant_

_the voice_

_In my pain I falter_

_but do not fall_

_the voice is my strength_

_though without substance_

_holds me fast_

_In my love I reach out_

_to my only reality_

_friend for all time_

_my lover for eternity_

_the voice..._

Without conscious thought, I slammed the book shut abruptly--on my finger. "Ouch, shit!" I stuck the painful digit in my mouth.

Al popped in then, noting my action with an amused expression. "Aren't you a little old to be sucking your thumb?"

I glared at him without commenting.

"Coulda been worse, I could have said--"

I cut him off quickly. "Before this leap is over, I will find a way to strangle a hologram!" I warned, pointing my injured finger in his direction. "Al, the only piece of clothing I can find in this place is a robe!" I began complaining, as much to change a suddenly uncomfortable subject as to vent my annoyance.

"The guy's a die-hard nudist," Al explained. "This is not a clothing optional leap." He looked pointedly at the robe.

"I'm not gonna walk around without clothes!" I insisted stubbornly, knowing I'd do what I had to. That didn't mean I had to like it.

"Dusty would, so you have no choice. Besides, it isn't like it's your body they see. What's the problem?"

"He looks a lot like me, remember?" I reminded him of his earlier comment, to see his reaction.

He shifted uneasily, as if afraid of retribution. "Well, not exactly. I mean, you're much better looking," he tried to appease with flattery.

"Al, are you flirting with me?" I smiled at him.

"Shit!" he exclaimed. "I was only kidding. I haven't even been to the waiting room yet, I don't know what the guy looks like--" he came to an abrupt halt. "Uh oh."

I was on my feet in front of him. "What did you say?" I asked in a deceptively quiet voice. "I thought you saw what everyone else did?"

Al squirmed for a moment, but finally met my gaze. "That was true, before. I used to, but these days I...see...you." He shrugged.

"How come?" I asked, puzzled by this new development. I was getting very unsettled whenever a new glitch popped up I didn't understand. After all, it was me who invented all that stuff. At least, the old me had.

"Well, Theresa has a theory about that. Something to do with brain waves, being in contact the way we are, and simo-leaping. She says there's some sort of bond forming...I don't really understand it all myself yet. I'm not sure I want to," he mumbled the last words.

"What are we, Vulcans?" I said the first thing that popped into my head.

"I guess we'll find out if one of us goes into Pon Farr."

I sat back down, burying my face in my arms. "I wonder what the penalty is for killing a hologram?" I wondered aloud.

"I was only kidding," he insisted.

"Were you?" I raised my head, pinning him with an intense stare. "Only kidding?"

"You know me, can't resist a great line." He turned away to look out the window.

I was getting some very strange vibes on this leap. Something was all wrong in Al's seemingly typical attitude. It wasn't unusual for him to throw out suggestive wise-cracks, but very rarely were they directed toward me. And, to the best of my memory, that hadn't been our style of joking around.

"Al, what's going on?" I asked softly.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "There are certain things that don't bear close examination right now."

We were both silent. Al watched the boats on the lake, I studied his profile. I could identify with what he said myself, too well. Part of me was determined to forge ahead, while most of me shied away from the answers. Maybe he was right.

I made my decision. "Did you find out why I'm here?"

He turned back to me, relief too evident on his face. Unfortunately, I couldn't mirror it. What I felt was more like...regret.

"Ziggy isn't sure, but he gives it a 65% chance you're here to finish Dusty's poetry book."

"You're joking, aren't you? I can't write poetry!"

"Just reporting the odds. You could help, got any of your famous feelings?"

"As a matter of fact, there's a screenwriter named Janice, I didn't get her last name. She's got a deadline in August she doesn't think she's going to make. Could you check on her?"

"I'll try," Al said dubiously.

"Hurry," I moaned, the idea of pretending to be a happy nudist making me cringe.

"C'mon, Sam, I don't know what you're being such a prude for; what about that skinny-dipping incident?" he asked me.

"What skinny-dipping incident?" I sputtered.

"Man, I'll never forget..." he began to relate, let it trail off.

"What incident?" I insisted, wishing I had a way of telling whether he was serious or not.

"Oh, I guess you don't remember, with your Swiss-cheese memory."

 _I couldn't have...could I?_ "Al..." I continued quietly, trying to remain calm.

"Okay, I'll go and see if Gooshie can round anything up on Janice."

"Al! I'll get you for this, somehow!" I vowed to my friend's disappearing image.

Then I was alone again, feeling confused, and a little lost.

XXX

Janice came by shortly after, to invite me for a swim. Despite my discomfort, I eagerly agreed. I did not want to sit in the cabin and think. Besides, the only way to finish the leap -- something I couldn't wait to do -- was to find out what I was there for. I wasn't going to accomplish anything by playing recluse.

Thankfully I was getting used to the nude part. Well, at least on the beach I was. It was easier, not as strange as, say, playing volleyball. Maybe Al wasn't lying about the skinny-dipping...

We discussed writing only briefly, Janice was reluctant to talk about it, and I didn't want to push her too soon. As enjoyable as I found it, I didn't come out of the day with much besides a sunburn. If I'd had pockets, maybe I wouldn't have forgotten the sunblock.

XXX

When I got back to the cabin, Al was waiting for me. I walked in gingerly, nodding in greeting. I began searching the cabinets for burn cream. "There's places man was not meant to have sunburn," I lamented.

"Could be worse," Al observed. "You coulda been a woman."

"Worse for who?" I blurted out. I stopped my search to glare at him. "Did you find out anything, or are you just here to annoy me?"

"Both." He smiled at me. "Her name is Janice Holt. She and Dusty became good friends while on their yearly trips up here. Platonic," he stressed.

"Platonic, huh?" I asked, although he'd made it more than plain. I figured it as a pure case of jealousy. I was the one surrounded by naked women, and he was only a hologram. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," he nodded firmly. "Like buddies."

"Buddies?" I pushed.

"Yes. Like, well, like you and me."

I felt some of my grumpiness from too much sun lift. He'd fallen into a nice trap, providing me with some revenge. "Do you know how the Webster's dictionary defines platonic?" When he shook his head, I told him. "A close relationship between two people in which sexual desire has been _suppressed_ or sublimated."

Al froze with his mouth open for a good minute. "You learn something new every day," he finally commented in a low voice. "Anyway, she never made her deadline, I guess, because in the fall she quit writing completely, and went to work as a secretary, can you believe it? Got married shortly after, then dumped the husband and picked up the bottle. It isn't a pretty story. Ziggy now says there's a 79% chance you're here to prevent her from screwing up her life."

"By giving up writing."

"Apparently."

"Sounds like a pretty easy leap," I noted. I found the cream at last, and started to apply it liberally.

"Nothing's as easy as it seems." Al brought the handlink up abruptly. "Well, I think I'll see if anybody's got another volleyball game going."

He left.

XXX

Breakfast and lunch flew by, and there was no sign of Janice. I wandered around the place, trying to mingle. Not terribly productive, but I was convinced Janice was the reason I was there. I hoped she was busy at work on her script, but hesitated to disturb her in case it might break her concentration. The fact that she wasn't around was a good sign, I figured. So I decided to give it some time. After all, no one was going anywhere.

I lay on the dock on my back, one foot trailing in the water. Despite my earlier misgivings, the cool breeze felt good on my naked skin. I was at one with nature. I chuckled to myself, luxuriating in the rare chance to do nothing, except let idle thoughts bounce around in my head.

I inhaled the clean mountain air, all my senses alive. The waves lapped against the dock, creating a gentle rocking, and peaceful sound. I stared up at the clouds, picking out patterns. My mind drifted...

_Al lay on his side, facing Sam and favoring him with a patiently affectionate gaze he'd come to know so well in the brief time they'd been friends._

_"You've got to learn to use more imagination, Al. Look--" he pointed out one of the cloud formations. "It's a quark."_

_Al burst out in playful laughter. "A little big, ain't it?"_

_"I used to like to lay out in the field during the summer, when I had some time between chores." Sam smiled at the fond memory. "Idle away an hour or so, making up a cloud world." His voice lowered. "That was when my Dad was still alive." His happy memory dissolved._

_"They're still alive, Sammy--in your heart."_

_Sam turned to look at Al, mouthing the words, 'thank you.'_

_The next thing he knew, he was being pushed into the water, clothes and all..._

I opened my eyes, the aura of happier days surrounding me. My eyes met Al's, with no surprise. He was standing before me, the same look he'd worn that day on his face. Our gazes locked and I felt a tangible bond, as if our two minds were one. Maybe that was the bond Theresa was talking about.

I mouthed 'thank you', as I had done that day so long ago.

"What for, this time?" Al asked softly.

I considered my reply. I loved my family, and they'd always tried to be supportive, but there was only one person who understood what was inside Sam Beckett. Al had always believed, without question and right from the start, in all my crazy dreams. It was as if we'd always been on the same wavelength. Which was why, I realized, he was the one I'd chosen for my contact in this experiment. Not even a wife could have been close enough to me to do the job he did.

"For making me feel...special."

"You are." He turned to seemingly watch a water-skier across the lake. "The only thing special that ever came into my life."

I stared at the water in front of me, surprised at the intensity of my emotions.

I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye, and looked just in time to see hands 'coming' at me, pushing. My reflexes took over before I could think. Before I knew what had happened, I was off the dock and falling into the water.

"Gotcha!" Al laughed gleefully, very pleased with himself.

"Just remember," I said, spitting out water. "If a hologram can find a way to push me into the water, I just may be able to find a way to kick one's butt!" My laughter joining his belied the warning.

XXX

As artists, the people at the camp kept to themselves a lot. Why anyone would want to pay money to rent a cabin in such a beautiful setting, only to spend almost all their time sitting inside at a typewriter was beyond me, although some of them could be found around the camp, artist's easel set up at a prime spot for painting. Me, I ended up seeking out Janice.

I went up to her cabin. I could see her through the screen door, hunched over her typewriter. I knocked on the door frame "Hi there," I called.

"Come on in and interrupt me, please!"

"That bad?" I asked, closing the door behind me.

"Worse."

It was time to do some serious work on this part of the leap. I didn't want Janice to end up as Al said she would, even if it didn't have anything to do with why I was there. "Maybe you're trying too hard."

"I spent the last two weeks doing nothing. If that's trying too hard, I'm in big trouble." She pushed the hair out of her face and got up, heading towards the other room. "How about some ice tea?"

"Sounds great."

She was back soon. "Read me some of your poetry," she suggested, handing me a glass. "I could use the distraction right now."

"Well, I...tomorrow," I hedged. "I can't recite any of my new stuff until I get it just right."

We sat down in the rattan chairs by the window. "Okay," she compromised, "so do one of your old ones. I love listening to poetry."

I had little choice. Luckily--though I wasn't sure I'd call it luck--despite my nervousness, one poem came immediately to mind. "It's called "The Voice", I said, and began reciting it...

"...in my love I reach out, to my only reality. Friend for all time, my lover for eternity...the voice." There were tears in my eyes when I finished. Which was crazy, what reason did I have to get choked up over a stupid poem?

"That was beautiful," Janice said. "Tell me its meaning."

"Huh??" I stammered. I had thought things couldn't possibly get worse. I was going to be forced to do exactly what I didn't want, was avoiding doing. Thinking too deeply about what it meant to me.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I didn't understand it. I know some poets are sensitive that way. I just meant, everything written has several meanings. The literal one, the private one that comes from the writer's heart, and the one unique to each person that reads it. I wondered what yours is. If it's not too personal?"

I shut my eyes. Al was there, I knew it, felt it. I shook myself, glancing around and wondering if there was still residual paranoia left over from my stint as the schizophrenic. "I think," I began slowly, "it's about a love so strong that it goes beyond the physical. Giving the non-tactile almost physical properties." Beyond the physical...did I really believe that?

"Powerful stuff," she commented. "I can't help but wonder though, if the non-physical is that strong, what happens when they get together physically?"

The ice tea glass slipped out of my fingers, shattering on the floor.

"I, I'm sorry," I stammered, shaken by the image that had exploded in my mind.

"It's okay," Janice assured, grabbing a cloth to mop up the spill. "Consider it revenge for my braining you with a volleyball. Do you want another glass?"

"I...do you have anything stronger?" I asked, desperately needing something to calm my nerves. My mind was trying to hide from the obvious, but it was there just the same. She'd planted it inside of me, images so frightening in all their implications that I didn't dare let them have free reign. I could pretend no longer.

A shot of whiskey was being held out for me. "I can tell I touched a nerve. Don't worry, I won't push."

"Thanks," I accept the glass gratefully. After gulping it down, I started to feel more in control.

"It's very rare," Janice spoke up.

"Huh?" I managed to rasp.

"A relationship like that. Very special."

_"You are. The only thing special that ever came into my life..." Oh God, Al..._

I took a deep breath. "I know." And I did.

"Should I apologize?" Janice asked tentatively.

I shook my head. "Sometimes we go through life ignoring what's really going on. When we do, we run the risk of not realizing how lucky we are until it's too late. I'm not going to let that happen to me."

"Good."

"Hey, enough about me. I came here to help you." A few more minutes and she'd be trying to get me to open up about my feelings, and there was only one person I'd do that with.

"Good luck," she said self-derisively.

"You believe in what you're doing?" I asked, looking for something to grasp onto. "You're really happy with it?"

"I would be, if I could write!" The depth of her frustration showed her tone of voice.

"Okay. Is this the type of writing you really want to be doing? Be honest with yourself."

"More than anything." It was an answer I had to believe.

"Maybe you're worrying too much," I suggested. What else could it be? It seemed she'd tried everything. Well, almost everything...

"That's been a problem of mine all my life," she confessed. "Many nights I toss and turn for hours because of worrying."

"I have an idea. I've learned a number of meditation techniques that have been very helpful to me, to relax. Let me teach you some." Truth be told, I could use some myself at that point.

"I'll try anything."

"Ah, the sign of a winner. Okay, first off, it's important to be comfortable." Which I wasn't going to be, unless I was honest. "Do you have a robe I could use?"

"I was wondering when you'd get around to wearing clothes again," she admitted, going to get one for me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked when she'd returned with a robe.

"Well, I've noticed you seem to be running around naked most of the time these days. "I didn't want to bring it up. I mean, it's a private sort of thing."

"This is a nudist colony," I began, starting to get a suspicious feeling.

"True, but it's an artists colony first. Many of us prefer to go natural while we're here. You just seemed to prefer sticking to underwear most of the time."

"I'm gonna kill the wise-ass," I mumbled angrily under my breath.

"What?"

"I said, I'd decided to try something different."

"But you aren't very comfortable like that, I can tell. For me it's a cleansing. I feel free and unencumbered by life's binds. It used to help me to write better," she remarked ruefully.

"And you will again," I promised. "Follow me." I sat cross-legged on the floor, waiting till she joined me. "Ready?" She nodded. "Okay. You've been doing too much thinking about your problems, so we'll try Zazen, the emptying of the mind of all thoughts."

"Are you serious?" she asked skeptically.

"Absolutely. Once your mind is completely free of everything, all that clutter will be gone. Then you can open yourself up to new insights. Someone, I forget who, described it as a glass full of muddy water. If you leave the glass standing, the sediment sinks to the bottom and the water becomes clear."

"Sounds promising, let's try it."

"The best description I've heard comes from Kafka. He wrote, you do not need to leave your room, remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quite still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice. It will roll in ecstasy at your feet."

"I'm ready." Janice closed her eyes.

I wasn't sure if it helped her or not, but it gave me a re-charge. Afterward, we relaxed with more ice tea, and talked lightly about writing. I warned her not to concentrate on real work until the next day, so we tossed around some nonsense.

"Here's an idea," she said. "A TV series about a hard-working septic tank cleaner."

"I can dig it,” I said, earning a groan at the pun. "Can't be worse than some I've seen. ...How about a screenplay about a scientist that travels back into time?" I suggested.

"It's been done to death," Janice replied. "Besides, it's too unbelievable."

"You could give it a twist. This guy's experiment goes wrong, and he ends up stuck in other people's lives, helping them with their problems. As soon as he puts things right, he moves on to another time and person."

"Stick to poetry, Dusty," she told me, laughing.

"No, listen..."

XXX

I was on the porch of Dusty's cabin, staring out at the lights across the lake and listening to the radio. I was waiting for Al. The laundry was waiting for me when I'd returned from Janice's, Dusty was one of those guys who sends everything out to be cleaned. I didn't get dressed though. I decided to 'experiment' and explore some feelings, maybe teach Al a lesson at the same time.

It wasn't long before my wait was over.

"How's it going, kid?" Al asked, oblivious to my intentions.

"There are places where man was not meant to have mosquito bites, you know that." It wasn't a question. I scratched one just below my navel, for emphasis.

"Will you put some clothes on!" he insisted abruptly, looking nervous.

"Why?" I asked. I slid further down in the chair, flaunting myself as seductively as I could. "You wanted me this way."

Al's cigar dropped out of his mouth, disappearing as it fell to the floor in 1999. "What--what are you talking about?" he stammered hesitantly, as if afraid to ask.

"You were there," I stated, realizing that somehow I had the answer to a question I hadn't asked. I knew. "Weren't you?"

"Sam, you're talking in riddles," he accused, more uncomfortable than I've ever seen him.

"Okay. So it's my turn to play games."

"I have never played games with you," he said emphatically. "Had a little fun, yeah--"

"At our expense?"

"Please, Sam..." he turned away, not explaining. "You're not gonna make this easy on either of us, are you?" he murmured eventually.

"I don't think that's possible, under the circumstances, do you?"

"Okay, so I was there, when you read her the poem, all right?!"

Strange to realize how we were inside of each other's heads. Odd, but not unpleasant. "And you know." I didn't bother to specify what. No matter how much Al might try to play dumb, it wasn't fooling either of us, and he knew it.

He turned back to me with determination. There was a shininess in his eyes in the light from the moon. I wasn't prepared for that. It shook me almost as much as what Janice said earlier had.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked beseechingly.

The ball was in my court. My decision, and the future would be shaped by my answer. I knew I could erase all with a few carefully placed jokes, he'd go along willingly. Then we could continue to pretend. Maybe it was even the smart thing to do. I wouldn't know, that's never been my strong suit. So I did the only thing I knew, what I've always done. I followed my heart.

"Tell me you love me," I answered.

Al closed his eyes.

"Look at me, Al," I insisted softly.

After a minute he opened them again, locking with mine. He sighed. "I'm in love with you, Sam."

It was my turn to close my eyes, as the meaning of the words washed over me. I felt tears threatening. I'd learned a lot of things since I started leaping, but none so important as the knowledge which filled me at that moment. Truth, at last.

"Oh, Al..." I began earnestly. "I wish-"

He put a finger to his lips, silencing me. "Don't ever say it," he whispered. "We don't wish. We dream, and make our dreams come true."

"Would you believe me if I told you that I'm in love with you, too?" I asked shyly.

Al gave me a genuine smile, which went straight to my heart like a shot of whiskey hits your stomach. "You'd better be," he warned lovingly.

"How long have you known?" I wondered, noticing his lack of surprise.

"I didn't, exactly. But I gotta admit, starting when you jumped back into the accelerator the second time, you got me wondering...about a lot of things."

We stared at each other, wondering where to go from there. I knew the thoughts on both our minds. Could we face the painful facts we'd need to? Already I ached to be able to reach out, prove to him how I felt with more than just words. How long would I spend wondering if I'd ever get that chance?

How we might have handled it became academic in the next moment, for something, or someone, took it out of our vulnerable hands. The volume on the radio seemed to rise slightly for no apparent reason...unless it was the song that was playing.

I began singing it to Al, and he joined in...

" _I'm so glad I found you, I'm not gonna lose you, whatever it takes I will stay here with you. Take it to the good times, see it through the bad times, whatever it takes is what I'm gonna do..._ "

As we sang the words, a sense of elation filled me. Instead of being bittersweet, it was the beginning of everything. No sadness, only joy. Okay, maybe a lot of frustration. But someday soon, I'd leap home. And Al would be waiting for me...

_And we can build this dream together, standing strong forever, nothing's gonna stop us now. And if this world runs out of lovers, we'll still have each other, nothing's gonna stop us now..._

"Okay, so we'll break a few more rules, pull off a few more miracles," Al started.

"That's what we do best," I agreed, as the song ended. The one which followed, was definitely overkill. _Don't Give Up On Us._

"Think they're trying to tell us something?" I asked happily.

"Turn off the damn radio," was Al's reply.

I laughed. "By the way, don't think that I'm gonna forget about you tricking me into going through this whole leap without clothes. Because somewhere, somehow, when you least expect it--I'm gonna get you for that."

"I'll look forward to it." Al smiled in a way that made me blush again, and shook his head. "I've heard of long distance relationships before, but this is ridiculous." We laughed together, sense of equilibrium returning. "So what's going on with the leap?" he asked, reminding me that there was indeed a leap.

"Huh?" I shook myself and tore away from his eyes. He complained about mine... if he knew what his did to me...which I figured I'd keep to myself awhile longer. Everyone needs their secrets. "Oh. I did it, Al. Convinced her to stick with writing. Come to think of it, why haven't I leaped? I'd be willing to believe that we had unfinished business, but we've done that...at least as much as we're able to," I added.

Al consulted the handlink. His forehead wrinkled, and what I saw in his face gave me a bad feeling. "According to this, Janice dies tonight."

"What?!" I jumped up. "How??"

"Drowns in the lake."

"That's impossible." I insisted. "What did I do? I did what I was supposed to, how could she--" I tried to comprehend how I could be the cause of her dying.

Al took charge immediately. "Calm down, Sam. We still have time, we'll find her."

"How, it's a big lake?!" The sense of urgency grew.

"It's a big universe, and I always find _you_." He began pushing buttons on the handlink furiously. "Let's go."

XXX

I scrambled over slippery rocks as quickly as I could in the dark, with Al hovering over me, leading the way. In the space of what seemed like hours, but wasn't any longer than ten minutes, he stopped me and pointed out over the water.

"There, can you see her?"

I didn't, but knew Ziggy's calculations would be right on the mark. I called Janice's name, relieved to get a faint reply. That was enough for me. I began to pull off my sneakers, knowing Al watched me skeptically. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I see her," I lied.

"Sam," he scolded.

"I'm not gonna let her drown." I shivered as the cold wetness surrounded me.

"It's black as ink out there," Al said as he watched me wade in. "Just be careful!" he finally commanded. "If you die on me now, I swear I'll kill you!"

I wondered if he was serious, or just doing his usual banter. Maybe a little of both, but I got the message.

The more I swam, the less progress I seemed to be making. At least I could see her as a small pinprick in the distance, that is, if the darkness wasn't playing tricks with my vision.

"Sam -- over here!"

Vision maybe, hearing no. It seemed Al had just remembered one of the benefits of being a hologram.

"Hurry, she's going under!"

I felt something brush against my leg and grabbed. By some miracle, it turned out to be Janice's hair. I hauled her above water, thankful she was still conscious.

I got us both to the shore and sprawled on the ground next to Al, trying to catch my breath. "Are - you - okay?" I managed, studying Janice to determine her condition.

She nodded, but her skin was pale and she started shivering. I rose and pulled her up. "We'd better have a doctor check you out."

"I'll catch up with you later, Sam," Al said, and blew me a kiss before popping out. It did wonders for my shivering.

XXX

Two hours later I was back at the cabin, wrapped in a blanket and drinking hot chocolate. There was a nice fire burning. Papers of my own littered the table, but I was mostly staring into space, thinking about how thankful I was that I'm a quantum physicist and not a poet. I sneezed and grabbed a tissue.

"Bless you."

"Thanks." The room had felt inviting enough before; now, with Al's presence, the feeling doubled.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "As if you didn't know."

"Yeah, I know she does okay with her career and leads a happy life. What I want to know is, what the hell was she doing in the lake in the first place?"

"Going for a swim."

He looked at me as if I'd gone off my rocker. "At that time of night?!"

"She was writing a script and needed inspiration."

"Don't tell me, about a woman who drowns in a lake?" I nodded, grinning, and he threw up his hands. "Writers!"

"The boat she was in sprung a leak and she got a cramp while trying to swim ashore. So?" I looked at him pointedly. "What now? As in, why am I still here?"

Al shrugged, looking over my shoulder. "What are you doing?"

A bout of shyness hit me and I quickly covered the pages. "It's a poem I was writing, _trying_ to write for Dusty's book. It isn't finished."

"Maybe you gotta finish it," Al suggested.

"Oh god..." I muttered despairingly. "Okay, okay, I'll give it a shot. But not with you staring over my shoulder, I can't."

Al moved away to wait, although I didn't know which was worse: him standing over me, or my awareness of his gaze from across the room.

"Okay," I said after a thoughtful few minutes and some writing. "It's done." I looked at him with trepidation, nervous at having him read what I'd written.

Al came over to read it...aloud...

_NEVER ALONE_

_As I journey down the road_

_All I ask for is a guide_

_One strong and noble soul by my side._

_I got so much more_

_I got a friend._

_The path ahead lies shrouded in fog_

_The one behind waits to imprison_

_Lost, but never alone_

_I asked for truth_

_I got a love_

_They say life has no guarantees_

_I do_

_I have you..._

"...That's beautiful, Sam."

"I'll see you, my love..." Reality faded, as the leap began...

**the end. . .**

**9/15/91**

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't plan on using any songs in the middle of this story. However, as I was staring into space over my typewriter, wondering how Sam and Al were going to handle their feelings for each other in this universe, my answer came in the form of those two songs, playing for me exactly the way they did for Sam and Al, at exactly that point in the story. Thus changing not only the title of this story, but the course of the relationship.
> 
> Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now, recorded by Jefferson Starship  
> Don't Give Up On Us, recorded by David Soul


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